Looking Good Feeling Awkward
by asphaltcowgrrl
Summary: After fouling up the good thing they had going, Travis is forced to figure out a way to get back on Wes' good side. A work-related trip to Vegas gives him inspiration. Installment #5 in the Wes in a Dress series.


"Travis," Wes groaned, "did you have nothing clean in the closet this morning? I swear you look like you dressed out of your hamper." He brushed his hand across the front of his partner's shirt, attempting to smooth out a wrinkle or two.

"Yeah, well, I'll never look as put together as you do, Detective Mitchell. I can't afford your fancy suits, you know."

Wes half-smiled. "You don't have to wear an expensive suit to look good, Marks. A wash and dry on what you're wearing would be one hell of an improvement."

"I get it," Travis snorted and shook his head. "You're still mad at me."

He resisted the urge to frown, not wanting to encourage the fine lines that he knew were beginning to creep up on him anyway. "And what gives you that idea?"

He was baiting the boy because he knew full well what was giving him that idea. But Travis was right – he was still pissed at him after yesterday. Even though he had no exclusive right to Marks' time, he'd hoped against hope that Travis was done philandering and ready to settle into an actual relationship. If the way he'd been flirting with that badge bunny had been any indication, Wes had been very, very wrong.

"Gee, let me see what it could be… maybe that orange ass tie that's suspiciously close to the same shade as that lipstick you were taunting me with yesterday? As nice as it looks against that silver shirt and navy jacket, I know you're just fucking with me."

Unable to deny it, Wes shrugged. "And your point is what?"

"That we're not dating?" Travis hissed the words out, voice low.

Marks' revelation hit him square in the chest. Sure, he knew it to be true, but he had wanted… eh, he knew better than to wish or dream when it came to Travis. "Right," he said, praying the hurt stayed out of his voice long enough to say what needed saying. "We're just screwing, isn't that it? That first time, it was an accident, but after that? I've gone out of my way for you, to surprise you and do what I know you like. And still, I'm nothing more than a throwaway." His anger was getting out of control and he forced himself to rein it in. "Know why we're not dating, Travis? It's because we never go anywhere together. As long as we've been doing what we've been doing, we've not gone on a single date. But I don't know what I expected when I got involved with you."

Travis stared at him, mouth half open, shock evident in his features. "And that's how you feel? You never told me you wanted a _boyfriend,_ Wes."

"And you never even asked, did you?" As unfair as that might be, it still had some merit. "I'll see you inside, Marks."

Swallowing his pride, his hurt and his fear, he left Travis standing on the sidewalk. Inwardly, he was preparing for the fallout he knew was coming, but outwardly, you'd have never guessed anything was wrong.

xx

"Well hell," Travis muttered, still standing on the sidewalk outside the station. "I've really put my foot in it this time."

As unexpected as this was, he knew Wes had a point. His partner wasn't the kind of guy to go for a one-night stand with a stranger, how could he expect him to have a physical only relationship with someone he knew as well as he knew himself? He couldn't, that was the only answer that made any sense. Still, he had ignored it until it was too late. That left him with only one thing left to do: fix it.

Strangely enough, he knew exactly how to do it. Calming his rabbiting heart, he walked into the station and sought out his partner. He found Wes sitting at his desk, staring holes into the case file in front of him, but not really seeing it, either. "Wes man, I'm sorry."

Wes shook his head, still unable to speak without sounding like a jilted ex-girlfriend, he supposed.

"Okay then, don't speak, just listen." Travis grabbed his chair and wheeled it over until he could sit beside Wes. "I want to make this up to you. I knew you wanted more and I ignored it because I don't know how to be in a relationship."

Wes snorted. Travis took that as permission to continue.

"I want to try," he said, hoping those four words were enough.

"Prove it," Wes muttered.

He knew blondie had to be uncomfortable having this conversation at work, and in the middle of the robbery homicide division at that. "Friday, we're going to Vegas for that forensics conference, right?"

Wes snorted again, this time there was a touch of humor to it. "Forensics and the Modern Detective," he said. "Right."

"Well, we'll be away from all this," he motioned around them, taking in the station and possibly the entire city. "No one there will know us."

Finally, he looked up. Travis' heart jolted at the sight of those red-rimmed blue eyes meeting his own. Wes sighed. "And?"

Travis shrugged. "And maybe we can go on a date? Lots of fancy ass restaurants in Vegas now, you know. Bobby Flay. Wolfgang Puck. Guy Fieri."

"Wolfgang Puck's been in Vegas for years," he reminded him.

"Not my point, Wes."

"So what is your point, Travis?" Wes was still reluctant, but at least he was listening, communicating.

"There are many places to have a nice dinner," he said, hoping he could get it all out before losing his nerve. "Some good food, a glass of wine… anything can happen." The snort he received in response this time sounded an awful lot like _not so much as you might want, jerk_, but he didn't let it get the better of him. "Can't you even give me a chance?"

"I'm not even sure, Travis. You keep doing stupid things and making me regret ever getting involved with you. Besides…"

Travis waited for him to finish the sentence. When he didn't, he gave a gentle prompt. "Besides what, Wes? Talk to me, man. I'm an idiot and keep things to myself, but you don't. So, spill it."

Wes leaned in closer, his shoulder bumping Travis'. "I don't know which one of us you want to be with," he admitted. "Me or… _her_."

"That's easy," he grinned. "I want to be with both of you."

"The last two times we've had sex, I was dolled up," he whispered.

"I like you when you're pretty," he confessed, "but I love you when you're not, too." Judging by the look on Wes' face, he wasn't sure blondie was buying it. "You want to meet me down in the lower level men's room in ten minutes? I can prove it to you."

Coughing to cover his surprise, Wes shook his head, grin forming for the first time all morning. "As tempting as that is, I'd really hate to get caught screwing in the men's room."

"Well then, let's get the hell out of here and go back to my place, you little tease."

"On one condition."

"Anything for you, baby." He would promise him the moon if it would get them back on good terms again.

"You take her out and not me."

The pink that creeped into Wes' cheeks stirred something low in his gut. "It'd be my pleasure, if she'll have me."

That sexy, suggestive grin that was one hundred and ten percent _Wesleigh_ crossed his face. "Oh, she'll have you all right, just so long as you prove yourself worthy, Marks."

Travis took that as a challenge.

xx

"Did you get us checked in, Wes?" Travis was standing near the lobby entrance watching over their luggage, Wes' suit bag slung over a shoulder.

"I did, and be careful with that bag. You don't want my _suits_ to get wrinkled, do you?" He gave Travis a glance that said he wasn't worried as much about his suits as he was about the other thing tucked between them.

"No," he exclaimed. "Sorry."

Wes grinned. "It's fine. We're checked in and I have the key," he said, holding up two keycards. "One small problem though."

"What's that?" Travis lifted his bag off the floor and moved to grab Wes' as well.

He waved him off, grabbing his own bag and lifted it off the ground. "There was a foul up with the reservation. Instead of two full beds, there's one king."

"So, what's the problem," Travis laughed, bumping against Wes' side as they approached the bank of elevators.

"The problem is that your girlfriend still hasn't forgiven you yet," Wes reminded him.

"Hmm," he pondered, looking around the empty area. "But her twin brother has."

Biting his lower lip, he refrained from responding to that. He felt slutty enough remembering how easily Travis had coaxed him back to his trailer two days ago for some mid-morning romping. Pressing the elevator call button, he pondered the depths of whoredom he'd fall into by the end of this weekend. Sharing a bed with Travis before had been easy. They kept to their own sides and the inappropriate touching had stayed within the confines of macho posturing. But now that they were entwined in a rather spicy affair, sharing a bed with his partner was going to be difficult.

"Elevator's here, blondie."

Travis' voice brought him back to reality and he climbed into the spotless space. "Sorry," he muttered, pressing the button for floor twenty-nine.

"You're fine," he grinned, leaning against the back wall of the elevator, holding an arm out in invitation. "Come back here and relax."

Wes glanced over his shoulder and figured it was short ride and no one would know. Positioning himself against the rear wall, he leaned into Travis' shoulder. "As soon as we get into the room, we'll have to shower and change. The first speaker starts at six. If we hurry we can make it."

"Damn," Travis muttered. "That means no shower sex."

"You keep this up and there won't be any sex," Wes threatened.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Travis mocked as the elevator dinged. "Our floor, blondie."

Shaking his head, Wes led the way down the corridor, finding the room without much trouble. Opening the door, he held it open for Travis. He only barely resisted the urge to kick him in the ass as he passed. "Get in the shower, Marks, and make it snappy."

xx

"Please tell me you're not wearing that," Wes groaned. It seemed like he was constantly playing fashion police for his partner. "You're covered in dog hair. Wait, when did you get a dog? I didn't see one when –"

"Hah," Travis laughed. "I didn't get one, but I was puppy sitting for Randi. Narcotics have a new litter of drug sniffing dogs and she needed someone to watch Hudson Junior for a few hours."

"Did you let him sleep in your dresser?" Wes rubbed a hand across his face. "Never mind. Stay right there, I think I can help you."

He returned with a lint remover in one hand. Wes made quick work of Travis' clothes, removing what amounted to a puppy-sized mound of hair from his shirt and pants. It had taken a full seven minutes, but Wes was relatively sure that Travis was as close to presentable as he ever was.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Wes looked up from his position at Travis' feet and glared. "If you ask for sexual favors I will use this lint roller on your pubes."

Grimacing, Travis held out a hand. "No, no… I will admit to _thinking_ about just that, but well, I know how you are about being late. I knew better than to ask."

"Good boy," Wes praised. "What's the question?"

"Business casual – what does that even mean? Isn't that like an oxymoron or something?" Standing still while Wes adjusted his pant legs, he went on. "I mean, you can be casual, or you can be business like. Where do the two meet?"

"At a sleazy bar at two AM," Wes said, rising to his feet.

"Kinda like us," he teased.

"You'll never catch me in a sleazy bar, Travis." Although that wasn't entirely true in his younger days, it was now more than ever.

"A boy can hope, right?" He reached out and pinched one of Wes' cheeks between his fingers. "But seriously, explain this to me."

"Let's talk as we walk," Wes suggested. "I don't want to be the last ones to arrive.

"Okay," he agreed, holding the door open for the blond. "Walk and talk, baby."

Wes chose to ignore that last little bit. "It's not quite me and not quite you. More like what you see the guys in missing persons wear. Khaki pants, button up shirts, big boy shoes." He gave a quick glance down at Travis' battered Nikes. "That kind of thing."

"Ah," he said, understanding dawning finally. "So middle-class douche. I get it."

_Oh, you're going to get it if you don't shut your mouth_, Wes thought. "Some days I'm not so sure you do."

xx

Somehow they had managed to weather two days of boring seminars, conceited speakers, and arrogant detectives from all over the country. Also, somehow Travis had managed to keep his hands to himself. Wes was both a bit confused as well as disappointed by this fact. While he was proud of Marks for having been so well-behaved, he wouldn't have said no to a little bit of hanky-panky.

As it was, he had enough to worry about. Tonight was his – rather _her_ – date with Travis. Their first official date of any kind and he was a tiny bit nervous. And not all of those nerves were coming from having to show up in drag. That part, he had down pat. It was seeing his partner as a potential mate that had him a touch weirded out.

It had been a constant dialogue in his brain since they'd had their fight on Tuesday morning. He wanted him as more than a friend and partner, and yet, the idea of it all was more than he could wrap his brain around. The thought had also occurred to him that Travis had suggested he come to the date as Wesleigh, instead of as Wes, so that he could pretend he was someone else until he was more comfortable with the idea.

"My god, that medical examiner from New Mexico was a boooooore, wasn't he?" Travis was stripping off his shirt on the other side of the room. "I swear, if he said 'caaaahpse' one more time I was going to scream."

Wes chuckled. "I debated with myself the entire hour whether he was actually from New Mexico or if he was transplanted from Bahston."

"Right?" Travis had unbuckled his belt and had his fingers on his zipper. "You okay with me getting dressed in here with you? You want me to go wait in the lobby or something?"

He shook his head 'no'. "You're fine where you are, Marks. It's not like you haven't seen me in various states of undress as it is."

"True," he agreed. "I have to admit, I've always wanted to watch you put your makeup on."

"Really? Why?" Travis was a curious sort, but this admission surprised him.

He shrugged. "I've watched my foster moms do, a few foster sisters, even a couple girlfriends. But I've never seen a guy put on makeup before."

Wes frowned. He knew Travis didn't mean anything by what he said, but all the same, his phrasing left a lot to be desired. "What are you saying?"

"Nothing," he swore, grimacing at his words. "It's sexy as hell watching you slip into – or out of – one of those little dresses. I think it'd be just as tempting watching you get all prettied up for me."

"Mm-hmm," Wes murmured. "And what are you wearing for me tonight?"

"The usual, I think. I did buy a new shirt though…" His voice trailed off as he rummaged through his suitcase.

"So, I have to go all out – new dress, heels, makeup – and you're wearing jeans?" Wes gave a mental eye roll at the whole situation.

"Hey, I said I bought a new shirt," he defended. "Why do I have to dress up anyway? I found a nice place, but it's not formal."

Wes sighed, loudly and pointedly. Travis wouldn't ever understand and he wasn't sure if pushing it was worth the consequences. "You don't have to dress up if you don't want to, but it'd be nice if you wanted to now and then. I'm getting in the shower."

"You do that," Travis joked. "Can I come join you?"

Never one to miss an opportunity, Travis had asked that every time Wes had showered since their arrival. "Have I told you yes yet?"

"No."

"Well then, there's your answer. Besides, I'm not giving up the goods until you feed me, Marks!"

"Hurry the hell up then, Mitchell. I have more than one kind of hunger to satisfy tonight."

xx

He leaned against the open doorway, peering intently into the bathroom. Wes had a deft hand and a light touch when it came to adding makeup to that already pretty canvas of his. Travis was one part surprised and two parts proud of how proficient he was with a mascara wand. None of his foster sisters had ever been quite that good at applying their own.

The dress he'd brought along wasn't one Travis had ever seen, and he'd peeked in Wes' closet once when he was out getting dinner for the two of them. That meant it had to be new. It was a knee-length classic black dress that accentuated the creamy paleness of his skin. Spaghetti straps rested lightly on Wes' shoulders and the curve of the bodice… _Wait_.

"Wes baby? Is this a new dress?"

His eyes lifted, meeting Travis' in the mirror. "It is, why?"

Travis' eyes flickered down again briefly before traveling upwards. "Did it come with breasts because I don't remember you having those before."

"They're rentals," he deadpanned, adjusting his falsies for emphasis.

"They're _what_?"

"Rentals," he choked out, laughter clogging his throat. "Otherwise known as falsies – foam inserts so I can look more like an actual woman rather than a boy not quite into puberty."

"No one would ever confuse you with an adolescent boy," Travis drawled, desire dripping off his words. "But why the," he waved in the direction of Wes' chest, "now?"

"Because we're going out in public. You never complained before so I never bothered. But if you want to pass me off as your girlfriend…" he shrugged and let the thought fade out.

"Hmm," he murmured, studying the reflection in front of him. "You're right, I don't care, but if it makes you feel better, then go for it."

"Not so much 'better' as more comfortable. Less chance of someone noticing I'm not actually female this way."

"Does that bother you?" Travis had turned so he could look into Wes' actual face and not just watch his reflection.

"It never used to," he confessed, "but it's been a long time since I've done this publically. In college, I had nothing to lose, not really. But now, I'm an ex-lawyer who had a pretty good reputation and I'm also a homicide detective. No one would take me seriously if they ever found out."

"Which is why we're doing this here, now. All those losers should be gone by the time we head out. And since we're not going home until Tuesday…"

"…there's less chance of anyone connecting the two," Wes finished.

"Correct-a- mundo, my friend." Travis blew him a kiss and smiled. "I'm going to wait out here, I'm getting too many ideas watching you like this."

"I won't be long," he promised. "And that's me saying that, not her."

Travis' laughter could be heard throughout the hotel room.

xx

When Wes exited the bedroom, Travis whistled in appreciation. "You look gorgeous," he breathed. "You always do, but tonight, you look amazing."

"Thanks, Travis," Wes said, blushing a bit. Tonight had him completely unnerved and he was so close to suggesting they order room service when his own words about how they never went anywhere came back to him. Steeling his resolve, he forced a smile onto his face. "I guess we should go."

Despite his words, he hesitated and Travis noticed. "You okay, baby?"

Wes shrugged. "I was just wondering… do you really want to do this?"

Travis grinned. "Of course, I do! And not just because I owe you either. You were right when you said we never actually go anywhere. I like showing you off."

Still, Wes paused. "You're not worried? Not even a little?"

That grin grew broader. "About what? Someone finding out those boobs aren't real? Of course not. This is Vegas, honey. Stranger things have happened than two men having dinner."

He looked down at himself and fluffed out the skirt of his dress. "Even in drag?" Wes knew he was being unreasonable, but the fear was still there.

"Haven't you ever heard of _La Cage_? Frank Marino? This town _celebrates_ men in drag. Not to mention the money they make off it." Travis chuckled suddenly. "Sadly, all you're getting out of the deal is dinner with me."

Finally, Wes returned his smile. "Sounds perfect to me. Are we ready then?"

"We are," Travis agreed, slipping his arm through Wes' and leading him to the door. "Never readier."

"More ready," he corrected, teasing.

"What the fuck ever," Travis laughed, holding the door while Wes exited the hotel room. "Let's just say I can't wait and leave it at that, deal?"

"Deal."

xx

Travis had found an out of the way Italian place just off the Strip, not far from the hotel they'd been staying in. That he hadn't gone for the obvious and picked a big name restaurant in one of the major casinos impressed him. It also meant he had to have put some actual research into the choice and said as much.

Shrugging, he waved off the compliment. "It's not as impressive as you think. I've spent a bit of time in this city and stumbled across this place the last time I was here. Looks like a real hole in the wall, but is actually quite nice." He pulled the door open, allowing Wes to enter before him. Stepping to the hostess station, he smiled and said, "Reservations for Marks."

The young blonde woman looked at the evening's roster, nodded, and smiled. "This way, please." She led them to a corner booth, informed them of their waiter's name for the evening, and bid them a good meal. Leaving them to their menus, she returned to her station.

Quiet settled over the table for approximately forty-three seconds before Travis felt the need to break it. As unpredictable as he could be at times, one thing Wes knew to be consistent was his hatred of quiet and his compulsion to fill any silence with words. Normally it annoyed him, but tonight, it brought a small bit of comfort. "I have no idea what I'm having," he said in response, "what about you?"

Travis shook his head, "It's why I asked you," he chuckled.

"Typical," Wes grinned. "Seeing as my stomach is in knots, I'm going to go with something simple and easy. I won't make a mess of myself with ravioli, I don't think."

"You are the most precise eater I've ever met," Travis said, reaching across the table and squeezing his hand. "I've never seen you make a mess of yourself ever. But why is your stomach in knots?"

Wes shrugged. "You never know, I could still slop on myself and ruin my dress. I'd hate to embarrass you, Marks."

Leaning forward, he caught Wes' gaze. "You could wear your ravioli on your head and it wouldn't embarrass me, baby. But you didn't answer my question."

He had hoped Travis wouldn't notice that part. "I haven't been on a date in a long time," he confessed.

"I know that," Travis reminded him. "And I'm okay with it."

"I'm not," he whispered. "Oh, here comes our waiter."

"Good evening," he said, looking from Travis' smiling face to Wes' nervous one, his spiel stumbling a bit when he caught the blond's eyes. "Uh, my name is Kyle and I'll be your server tonight. Can I start you with a glass of our house wine tonight?"

"I'd prefer a beer, if you have one," Travis requested. "Whatever you have. And my girl would like a pinot, please."

The waiter's eyes lit on Wes for a long moment before he nodded. "I'll get those for you right away."

Travis watched Kyle turn on his heel and practically run to put their drink order in. Shaking his head, he gave Wes' hand another squeeze. "You'd think he'd seen a ghost or something."

Wes cracked a half smile. "I was beginning to wonder if I had forgotten to shave or something."

"Nope," Travis assured him, "your face is as smooth as that pretty backside of yours."

"I've said it before, but just in case you've forgotten, you are a flatterer and a half, Marks." Wes pulled his hand from under Travis' and shook a finger at him. "And by the way, what's with ordering a beer in an Italian restaurant, you heathen?"

Making a face, Travis waved a hand in the air. "I don't care for wine, you know that. And besides, you keep calling me 'Marks' and we're on a date, remember?"

"Okay, you have a point, _Travis_."

"Much better, although I still won't drink wine," he stated.

"Really? You make that sound like a challenge."

"Nah, just not my thing." Travis nodded at the waiter as he returned with their drinks.

"Ready to order," he asked, eyes flicking between the two.

"I think so," Travis said, taking the lead so Wes didn't have to for once.

They placed their orders, Wes going with the ravioli in a pomodoro sauce like he'd first thought and Travis defaulting to his usual fare – steak and potatoes. In a surprising move, he added on two salads and a starter of bruschetta and arancini.

When the waiter had taken their order and vanished, Wes lifted his wineglass too his painted lips and said, "I would have bet you didn't even know what arancini were, Travis."

Travis lifted his beer mug in a mock toast. "A week ago, I didn't. I checked the menu and looked the things I didn't know up online. I wanted to be prepared."

"Well, well, well, we're really trying to make an impression, aren't we?"

"Hey, gotta make my girl proud, don't I?"

A startled cough brought both of their attention outward. Kyle, their waiter for the evening, stood at the side of the table, looking rather pale. "Excuse me, but I forgot to ask the – the gentleman how he'd like his steak."

"Rare," Travis answered, trying unsuccessfully to hide the grin spreading across his face. "Please."

"Of course." He looked at Wes and noticed his half-empty glass. "Would the uh, lady like another glass of wine?"

"Yes, she would," Travis answered before Wes could say no. "Thank you."

Kyle nodded and walked off. "I really don't need another glass of wine quite yet," Wes complained. "You want me dancing on the tables before dessert gets here?"

"Honestly?" That damn grin grew even wider.

"On second thought, no, don't answer that," he laughed. "And you owe him a big tip for that."

"Yeah, he gets bonus points for barely stumbling over the word 'lady'."

"Do you think he's seen worse," Wes asked in a little voice.

"Yeah, considering where we are, I have no doubt he was trying to figure out whether you were my girlfriend or a hooker."

"Definitely not a hooker," Kyle interrupted, placing a fresh glass of pinot in front of Wes. "She looks much too nice for that."

Wes nodded his appreciation at the comment. "I bet this is a bit… unusual for you."

"Not really," he said, looking around. "Not your everyday occurrence, but not completely unknown either. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable at all."

"I'm fine, but thank you," Wes assured him.

"There have been people staring though," Travis noted.

"And you could have gone all night without saying that," Wes grouched.

"If it's any consolation, you nearly had me fooled."

Travis looked at Kyle for a long moment. "What gave it away?"

"Something about the way he – she – shit, _you_ are sitting. Not very ladylike." A faint blush crept into his cheeks at the admission.

Self-conscious, Wes adjusted himself into what he thought was a more ladylike manner. "Better?"

Kyle nodded. "Much. Anything else I can get you?" When they both shook their heads, he strolled off to check on another table.

"You can't turn the cop off for five minutes, can you?"

Even though Travis whispered the words, they still made Wes glance around them. "It's a habit, I don't realize I'm doing it."

"Well, that much is obvious," Travis joked.

Rolling his eyes, Wes tried to change the subject. "Do you have anything planned for after dinner?"

"I thought about taking you to a club, but wasn't sure you'd be up for that, thought we could put that on the back burner until we were back in LA." He drummed his fingers on the table for a minute before continuing. "We could go to a show or we could hit one of the casino bars."

Wes swallowed the worry building in his chest. He really wasn't ready for this, dinner out in public, so going to a show or hanging out on the casino floor wasn't even an option worth considering. He thought there was one surefire way to distract his partner from wanting to hit the town. "We could always go back to the room, too."

Travis' eyes lit with blue fire. He could almost feel the heat building in the other man, his man. "Yeah, we could definitely do that, buttercup."

"But only after dessert," Wes said, face unreadable.

"Aw, but baby, I thought you _were_ dessert."

"Maybe if you play your cards right," he suggested.

In truth, Travis had behaved himself admirably the entire trip and he wasn't nearly as angry with him as he had been. He hoped that his little diva display earlier in the week had gotten his point across about his feelings and that Travis would think twice before flirting with another woman. Well, if he were to be honest with himself, he knew Travis wouldn't ever give up flirting, he had that kind of outgoing, affable sort of personality that often came across as flirtatious, even when he didn't mean for it to be. And if he were even _more_ honest with himself, he kind of liked watching Travis turn on the charm when it worked to their advantage. What he didn't like, however, was when he used that charm on others to get what _he_ wanted. What worried Wes was the fact that he knew he was unable to resist Travis' charms, how were these poor women to do so? They didn't have a chance.

Their appetizers came, followed shortly by the rest of their food. While they ate, they chatted and Wes tried his best to ignore the blatant stares that were directed their – his – way. The more aggravated and uncomfortable he became, the more affection Travis showed. Hand holding led to face touching. The touching eventually evolved into kisses on his knuckles and later, his cheek. To their waiter's credit, Kyle never missed a beat, even making a point to refer to Wes in the feminine, just as he should.

By the time dessert arrived, Wes was a mess of contradictions. One part humiliated, he was also one part proud of Travis, two parts uncomfortable and fifteen parts aroused, and he wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about any of this. When Travis lifted a forkful of tiramisu to his lips, he realized he was one hundred and thirteen parts thankful to have someone as unconcerned with appearances as his partner. His friend. His lover.

"I owe you," Wes whispered between bites of dessert.

"No you don't," Travis said, feeding him some more. "I owed you, which is why we're here. If I hadn't, we'd be at the hotel screwing right now."

Swallowing before he choked on a ladyfinger, Wes stared at Travis. "You wish, baby."

"You know it's true," he only half-joked. "But why do you think you owe me?"

"For all of this." He waved a hand around indicating dinner, but meaning more. "Wanting to take me out like this, for standing up for me, for not giving a damn about them." That 'them' was the rest of the patrons was obvious.

"It's my job to make sure my girl is happy, right?" He placed a kiss along the blond's jaw, lips lingering a touch longer than proper for public. "And Wesleigh, you are my girl."

Wes looked into Travis' steady gaze. "Really?"

"Really," he echoed. "You're also my guy, my partner, and everything else I need to function properly."

"Meaning, I'm also your nanny, your babysitter, and your mother," Wes clarified.

Travis shrugged. "If need be. Now, have you had enough dessert yet?"

This time, when Wes met Travis' gaze, there wasn't anything shy about it. "Oh no, Detective Marks, I think I haven't even begun to get my fill."

"Kyle," Travis almost shouted into the dining room. "We need our check, please."

With the bill paid, Travis stood and held his hand out to Wes. Taking it with gratitude, Wes allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. When Travis slipped his arm around his waist and pulled him close, he forgot about all the eyes on them and fell into the heat of the fingers curling around his hip. Body to body, they left the restaurant behind them.

xx

Travis couldn't keep his hands to himself. First, in the cab, then in the elevator. Wes wasn't sure how he managed to get the keycard in the door with an errant hand up his skirt, but somehow he succeeded. Practically falling through the door, he stumbled into the room with his boyfriend not far behind. Catching himself against the back of a chair, he glared at the other man. "You are impossible," he growled.

"And you love every minute of it," Travis grinned, shutting the hotel room door firmly. "Admit it."

He refused to admit it, but he certainly couldn't deny it, either. Travis was a thorn in his side most days, but in the bedroom? The man was pure magic. His incorrigibility, his impossibility, and his absolute conviction that he was the best at what he did made it all worth the frustration. "I am not going to fluff your ego any more than it already is," he said instead.

Wes straightened the top of his dress, thankful his appendages had all stayed put. Watching Travis approach him, he took a deep breath, forcing himself not to step back and give himself a reason to be teased. Lord only knew Travis did not need any more ammunition with which to fire at him.

"Did you enjoy dinner," he asked, drawing a hand along Wes' cheek. "I didn't have much time, but I put as much into it as I could."

He lifted his fingers and let them rest where Travis' hand had just been. "Yeah, actually I did enjoy dinner," he admitted. "As surprising as this may sound, you did a good job."

"Yeah?" Hi eyes lit up with hope and desire. "So, are we good again?"

Taking Travis' tie in hand, he ran the length of it through his fingers silently assessing the quality and finding it to be better than he'd expected. "We're good," he began, hesitating before finishing his thought. "Just as long as you remember one thing, Marks."

"Back to that are we?" He grinned and shook his head. "Okay, so what's the condition?"

Tugging on the length of silk around his boyfriend's neck, Wes pulled him forward until their toes were touching. "The condition is that you remember who you belong to from here on out."

"Oh," he breathed, leaning in until his lips were a breath away from Wes'. "And just who do I belong to, Wesleigh?"

"You belong to _me_, detective," he growled, "and the next time you forget that and start flirting with some big busted bimbo, it'll be the last." Wes watched as a slow smile spread across his lover's mouth. He'd been half afraid that being so blunt with Travis would backfire, but apparently he'd been wrong.

"You know," he said, lips brushing against Wes', "I think I like it when you take control like this."

"A boy needs to know his boundaries," he added. "Especially a boy like you."

"Yeah, I do tend to push mine, don't I?"

"Only every chance you get," he agreed, finally being the one to breach the miniscule space between them, pressing his lips against Travis'. "But I have to admit, I think I kind of like it when you do. It keeps me on my toes."

"I like your toes," Travis chuckled. "But I love those heels even more. Leave them on for me?"

"I can be persuaded to do just that," he promised.

This time, it was Travis who initiated the kiss, a long and lingering caress that thrilled Wes to his pretty pink painted toes. One hand snaked around Travis' neck, bringing him closer and deepening the press of their lips. In response, a dark arm wrapped around his waist, crushing his lean frame against his partner's bulkier one. Wes could feel the eagerness in Travis' muscles, the desire stirring within him.

"I need you," Travis whispered, running his fingers through Wes' blond tresses. "I need you right now."

Wes relaxed into Travis' embrace, savoring the sensation of those fingers in his hair, that arm around his waist. He placed kisses on his mouth, his chin, his cheek. What he wanted was a mouthful of milk chocolate shoulder, a bite of his neck, but the way Travis was holding him made it impossible for the moment. "And I want you, Travis. Do you want me?"

"More than I can say," he breathed, circling his hips into Wes', allowing him to feel the degree of his want, his need, his longing.

"I think that says it all," he gasped, pushing his own hips forward into Travis'. "Please?"

Travis groaned. "Anything my baby girl wants, she gets." He slipped his tongue between Wes' lips, lightly touched with a pastel pink lipstick tonight, slipping and sliding against his lover's before withdrawing. "And if you want me, right now, who am I to stop you?"

Wes laughed at the absurdity of Travis' remark, noting silently that it was so very typically _Travis _to say something like that in a moment like this. "And if I wanted someone else," he teased.

"Then you'd be awfully disappointed because the only person you're getting is me, sweetheart."

He thrilled at this new pet name, not something Travis had ever called him before. It wasn't something as common as his patented 'baby', but more intimate. More meaningful, he prayed. "I guess it's a good thing that I don't want anyone but you, Travis."

"Oh god, thank you," Travis sighed, ravaging Wes' mouth with kisses. Breaking away, he pulled back enough that their noses touched. "Are you ready?"

He could only nod, his heart was thudding too loudly in his chest, his breath coming too harshly to form actual words. Wes knew that Travis would understand and when he was taken into those strong arms, he knew that his need had been as apparent to Marks as his had been to himself.

In the few steps it had taken them to enter the bedroom, Travis had shed his shirt and tie, his shoes having been discarded sometime after entering the hotel room. With deft fingers, he made quick work of the zipper holding Wes' dress closed. Eager, he pushed the straps down his shoulders and watched in horror as his lover's false bust fell to the floor.

"Wesleigh, honey, you've lost your boobs."

Clasping his dress to his body with one arm, he looked at the floor and the two beige pieces of padding lying at his feet, he schooled his face into seriousness. "Yes, I can see that, Marks. And if I recall, it was your doing."

"Now this, I can take the blame for," he grinned, rubbing a palm along one muscular pectoral, "because it means I can touch you without any barriers."

Travis caressed Wes' chest again, ducking low to take his other exposed nipple into his mouth. He gasped at the first touch of hot, wet lips against his cool skin. A flick of a tongue and his eyes closed, fingers working into Travis' hair. "Oh god, you're such a jerk."

Chuckling around his mouthful of hard flesh, Travis continued working over Wes' nipple, adding his teeth into the mix occasionally. Overcome by the sensations thrilling through him, Wes' fingers released their hold on the dress, allowing it to fall completely to the floor. His free fingers joined the others already twined in the mass of dark curls at his chest. "Travis, please, enough," he begged.

Releasing his hold on Wes' skin, Travis straightened, bringing himself back to eye level again. "Aw, but that's no fun, baby."

"I didn't say were were going to stop," he panted, "I just said enough of that."

"Mmmm," Travis murmured, capturing Wes' mouth for an overdue kiss. "And what do you propose we do next."

"Anything you like," he suggested, "just so long as we're both much more naked than we are now."

Giving his lover's pale body a long look, Travis grinned, mischief evident on his face. "Sweetheart, you're wearing nothing but a thong and heels. There isn't getting much more naked than this."

"Maybe," he grinned back, stepping out of the pool of fabric he'd been wearing. "But you've got a long way to go, mister."

"Think I could get some help here," Travis teased, knowing full well that Wes would do whatever it took to get him naked in that minute.

In response, Wes worked at Travis' belt buckle, pulling it open and freeing it from the loops holding it tight to his partner's pants. Tossing the belt to the side, he returned his fingers to the button holding Marks' pants closed, sliding it through the hole and giving himself a glimpse of what awaited him. Tugging down the zipper, he became more fully aware of how long it had been since they'd been together like this.

His eyes trailed along the path of dark hair leading into his pants, landing solidly on his lover's firm cock. "Travis, you're not wearing any underwear. I'm scandalized." Grasping Marks' thick erection, he gave it a slight squeeze. "But I'm also impressed."

"So glad you approve, Wes," he groaned, arching his hips forward into the hand gripping him. Pushing his pants to the floor, he exposed himself completely to the blond's gaze.

"God, you're gorgeous," Wes breathed, continuing to slowly stroke his partner.

"Isn't that my line," Travis gasped.

"This is one I think we can share," Wes grinned, moving until his chest pressed against the darker, broader one before him.

"Gladly," he agreed, leaning in to steal a lengthy kiss. "But I think I'll go with 'beautiful' on this occasion."

He couldn't help it, the compliment brought a flush to his cheeks that he hoped hadn't spread to the rest of him. "You keep talking like that and I might just fall for you yet," he joked and then immediately wished he could take back. It was embarrassing enough that he had already fallen for the sexy, arrogant, pain in the ass, but admitting to it, even in jest, was more than he was willing to disclose tonight.

Travis caught his gaze, gliding in for another lingering kiss. "You keep being so good to me and I might just do the same."

That admission was more than Wes could handle. Travis couldn't commit to a relationship, even as erratic as theirs were. Love wasn't an option even on the table for him. "Stop teasing me," he whispered. "I'm fragile you know."

"You're a lot of things, baby," Travis breathed into his ear, "but you are not fragile. You are strong and sure and capable."

Wes swallowed against the emotion rising in his chest. If Travis only knew how unlike all those things he could be sometimes. But it wasn't something he was willing to dwell on when he had Marks' swelling manhood in his hand. "You're so sweet, I think you deserve a reward."

Travis watched him as he dropped to his knees. When Wes took his cock into his mouth, the groan of anticipation and pleasure he received in return was almost more than he could handle. Tilting his head upwards, he took Travis deeper, swallowing every inch he had to offer. Slowly, he pulled back before taking him fully again.

Just as he was beginning to find his rhythm, Travis stopped him with a gentle hand to the back of his neck. "Wes, baby, stop."

He took Travis' cock into his hand, releasing him from his mouth. "What's the matter? Did I do something wrong?" Not that Travis would ever confess to that, but it was still a huge worry when they were together in this fashion. His relationships with men had been few and far between, often leaving him at a loss when dealing with his partner.

"Oh hell no," Travis grinned, holding out a hand to help Wes to his feet. Once he stood before him, he cupped a pale cheek in his hand. "Exactly the opposite, you were doing that entirely too well."

He couldn't stop the pleased grin from spreading across his face. "Then why stop me?"

"I don't want to come in that pretty little mouth of yours, not tonight anyway." The lecherous leer was both playful and exciting.

"Oh no," Wes said, voice heavy with suggestion. "Where would you prefer to then?"

The flood of desire that washed over Travis was palpable. Heavy, hot and thick, it invaded the room. "I think I might need to show you, baby."

Slipping the scrap of pink lace down over his hips, Wes let the thong fall to the floor. "I think I might like that demonstration, detective."

He knew it drove Travis nuts when he referred to him as 'detective'. It stirred something in his maleness to be the big, protective cop when Wesleigh was the little woman needing his strong arms. If he were honest with himself, it stirred something within himself as well, maybe that need to be protected, coddled, and cherished.

"I wish I had my handcuffs," Travis muttered through clenched teeth. "I'd really show you a thing or two then, Miss Mitchell."

_Miss Mitchell_. Travis was really playing to his hot buttons tonight, nailing every last one of them. "You'd have to catch me to cuff me, officer."

One large hand slapped against Wes' bare ass before pulling him forward. "I think I just did," he said, nipping at that favorite patch of skin right where his shoulder met neck. Releasing Wes from his grip, he shoved his pants to the floor, baring himself entirely. "Get on the goddamned bed before I toss you onto it."

Wes' tongue darted out of his mouth, nervously skipping along the edge of his lower lip. "If I weren't so worried about you throwing your back out, I'd stand here and say 'try it'. But –"

"Get. In. The. Fucking. Bed. Wesleigh."

Apparently Detective Marks wasn't in any mood for conversation, Wes mused. "As you wish, sir." Bending down to unstrap his heels, he was stopped by a firm hand.

"No," Travis begged. "Please leave them on."

Giving a mock curtsey to his lover, he steeled himself and climbed into bed _with his shoes on_. Laying back onto the pile of pillows they'd left that morning, Wes tried to still his racing heart. They'd been here – shoes optional – several times since that first night, and yet, every time he was still terrified that Travis would reject him. _Seriously_, he thought, _I'm wearing nothing but a pair of strappy heels and a bit of makeup. Who wouldn't have second thoughts?_

Travis' voice brought him out of his thoughts just before they turned south. "Look at you," he said, giving Wes a long once over. Head to toe and back again. "I don't know how I manage to keep my hands off you sometimes."

"It's about the only modicum of professionalism you've ever shown," he joked, praying Marks wouldn't take it the wrong way.

Shrugging, he climbed onto the bed and straddled Wes' waist. "Don't mock my lack of professionalism, baby. It's gotten us information in the past," he reminded the blond. "Not to mention it's saved our asses on occasion."

He had a point. When you had no qualms about breaking the rules, you could accomplish a lot of things. "Point," he conceded. "Now are you going to kiss me or what?"

That knee-weakening smile graced his face, lighting a fire behind his eyes. "Oh, I'm more than ready for a little 'or what', baby, but I can spare you a kiss first."

Travis grazed his lips across Wes', running a hand up his chest, from belly button to collar bone. Wes arched into his touch, using his body to beg for more. Latching his mouth onto Travis', he wrapped an arm around his neck, bringing him down until they were chest to chest, not a millimeter of space between them. "I can't wait any longer."

"I thought you'd never come clean," Travis muttered between kisses. "If you didn't say something soon, I was going to give you a little nudge." He tilted his hips forward, knocking his hard cock into Wes' equally straining body part.

"Color me shocked you even waited," he said, trying to be as lighthearted as his enthusiastic body allowed him.

"Not waiting any longer," he stated, nipping at a bare shoulder before leaning back and reaching for his overnight kit on the nightstand beside the bed. Removing a tube of lubricant, he grinned. "I wasn't sure if you'd be willing to play or not, but I thought I'd come prepared all the same."

"Good thinking," he groaned. "Now can you stop bragging and get inside me before I lose my mind?"

He stopped speaking altogether. Lifting one heel clad foot into the air, he traced the curve of Wes' shapely calf with a hand. Placing a light kiss to his instep, Travis settled the ankle onto his shoulder. At the touch of Travis' fingers against his body, he lifted his hips, giving him better access to what they both wanted, and needed, tonight. The cool swipe of lube against heated skin only enraged his desire, making it more demanding, insistent. "Travis."

"Give me a second, baby," he said, wrapping a fist around his cock, coating it fully before placing his head against Wes' entrance. "Ready for me?"

"Oh dear god yes, please," he whimpered, not giving a damn how desperate he sounded. That, too, was something he'd discovered Travis liked. Scratch that, Travis _adored_ knowing that he made Wes so needy with want. The night he discovered that was the moment he realized they both needed professional help.

"I'll take that as a resounding yes," Travis laughed, slowly pushing into his lover.

Wes' fists curled in the sheets, hips lifting to meet Travis' cock. The slide of his partner's body against his, the fullness he felt where Marks' fit inside him, it was what he'd been waiting for all night. Dinner had been amazing, Travis had been on his best behavior, and this, this is what they both needed to finish off their first date.

_Date._ The word sent a shiver through him. He lifted his other leg, wrapped it around Travis' waist, heel digging into his back.

"Hell yeah, baby," he grunted, slapping his hips against Wes' ass a little harder than before. "Dig that heel into me, better than fingernails in the back any fucking day."

Shifting his weight, Travis came down onto his hands, one on either side or Wes' shoulders, pressing the leg across his shoulder into Wes' chest. After discovering Travis' penchant for twisting him like a pretzel, Wes had rededicated himself to his yoga practice not only for the peace of mind it gave him, but the flexibility. He needed every ounce he could find when in bed with Marks, it was almost as if Travis forgot he was a human male and not Gumby.

But it was worth every muscle straining moment, he reminded himself. Bent in half with his partner buried to the hilt within him. That he could maneuver into these positions and only increase the closeness between them, the intimacy, and the pleasure, was a blessing. Aching body or not, he was able to give Travis what he wanted, which meant he would eventually get what he needed.

He could tell by the look in Travis' eyes that he'd promised himself he'd take his time, go slow, make it last. Wes could see his resistance breaking down, his will faltering, and it was exactly what he wanted right that second. For Marks to completely lose control and fuck him for all he was worth. Who needed sex that lasted all night when you had all night to have sex? It never made sense to him. Granted, the idea was a nice one, but sometimes you needed to come – and soon – so you could return to the languorous lovemaking later, when you were better able to focus on something other than your cock.

"Travis, harder" he begged, pressing fervent kisses to his lover's face, smudging it with pink lipstick, savoring the brightness of it against Marks' dark skin.

"Aw, but baby," he gasped, "I thought you'd want –"

More than once, Travis had pointed out that he knew nothing about seducing the opposite sex. But what Travis had failed to realize is that Wes was a quick study and that he paid attention. All those little things that he joked about – how he liked the way Wes' legs looked in heels, that spearmint beat out peppermint every time, and how he got off on Wes saying his name during sex – and tried to trivialize, Wes heard them, itemized them, and filed them away for later. Times like this, when he needed to use them to his – their – advantage.

"All I want," he ground out, fingers digging into Travis' hair, "is for you to make me scream."

And it worked.

"Don't you tease me," he threatened.

"Travis," Wes groaned, pulling out his ace in the hole. "Please. _Fuck me_."

Because the one thing Travis could not resist was dirty words coming out of his pretty pink lips. It was something he'd discovered quite by accident since, as a general rule, Wes did not swear. It was unintelligent and uncouth. Besides, he had this giant vocabulary at his disposal, what need did he have for foul language? There were times, however, when no other word would do, but those times were few and far between.

"Yeah?" Travis thrust harder against Wes' ass. "Like that?"

Wes arched his back, pressing into Travis' body, reveling in the warmth of his skin and the power in his muscles. "God, yes."

Travis let go of the last remaining bits of control he'd held onto, slamming into Wes, fast and rough. Just how Wes had wanted it, how he had hoped he'd be treated this first time tonight, because he knew neither of them would be satisfied with just one roll in the hay. Even though it was too soon, he couldn't hold out any longer. "Travis," he whimpered.

"Yeah, baby," he cooed. "Come for me, Wes."

Travis didn't need to tell him twice. With a shout that was half yelp, Wes let go, shooting all over Travis' chest. Not one to be left behind, Travis increased his pace, thrusts coming more quickly, until he broke, too, filling Wes with his orgasm. He gave a couple slow, half-hearted thrusts before collapsing onto Wes' chest, crushing his leg between them.

"Ouch," Wes yelped, more surprised than hurt. "You may think I'm made of rubber, Marks, but I'm really not."

"Shit," Travis muttered, leaning to the side so Wes could slide his leg back down beside his other. "I forgot it was there."

Laughter erupted from Wes. "You forgot my big ass foot was in your face?"

Travis frowned. "In my defense, I wasn't exactly thinking about your big ass foot!"

Wes kissed his face, patting his cheek when he pulled away. "I forgive you."

"So happy to hear it," he muttered, nuzzling his face in the crook of Wes' neck.

"Uhm, can I get up?" Wes wiggled a little for emphasis.

An arm tightened around his waist and Travis settled his weight onto him more fully. "Nope. I'm exhausted and I'm not going to move."

"But…"

"But nothing, buttercup, you're going to have to figure out how to deal with being dirty for a minute."

Knowing that Marks was on the edge of sleep, he was relatively certain that he wasn't going to be lying there, covered and filled with bodily fluids, for a minute. More like a few hours. "Travis?"

"Go to sleep, Wesleigh," he murmured, the words a soft rumble in his chest. "Not like I'm not going to dirty you up again in a couple hours. No point in prettying up when I'm only going to make a mess of my girl, right?"

It made an odd sort of sense, even if it went against every fiber of his being. "I'm not okay with this, Travis." It wasn't much more than a whisper, but he knew he'd been heard.

"I know you're not," he said, pressing his lips against Wes' long neck. "But eventually you will realize that this isn't dirty, this is natural." A hand stroked along the blond's abdomen. "And it's hot as fuck knowing that when I find my way inside you later, you'll already smell like me, feel like me, and you'll love every second of it."

He knew he was right, even though the thought of sleeping with the aftermath of their lovemaking drying on his skin squicked him out more than a little. Sighing, he cuddled into Travis' sturdy, warm arms. "Fine, go to sleep."

xx

When Wes awoke hours later, his body was stiff, sore, and singing the praises of Travis Marks. Stretching out the kinks in his muscles, he looked towards the slice of sky he could see through the curtained window. It was still dark outside and a glance at the clock told him it was nearly five o'clock. As carefully as he could, he scooted out from under Travis' still sleeping form and pulled on a pair of sweatpants Travis had discarded the morning before. They were much too big for him, but a yank on the drawstring mostly fixed the problem.

Padding to the window, he looked out at the early morning sky and found it laden with thick, dark clouds. A heavy drizzle fell from the sky, drenching everything around them and weighing it down. Across the sky, a bright flash of lightening lit up the night, more than the lights of the casinos below ever could. Something brushed his shoulder and he jumped.

"Sorry, baby," Travis murmured, voice heavy with sleep. "Didn't mean to sneak up on you. Raining huh?"

Wes looked over his shoulder at Travis. He'd apparently found another set of sweats because he wasn't completely naked. "Yeah, it is. Looks really peaceful down there, with the streets empty like that."

"Open the window, let some fresh air in," Travis suggested.

"Can't, the windows don't open or I would have."

"That's stupid," he groused, kissing Wes on the back of his neck.

"Not when you consider how many people jump out of hotel windows every day." Shaking his head, he let the curtain drop and turned to his partner. "Good morning, by the way."

"Good morning, gorgeous." A chuckle bubbled up. "Although you look a bit like a raccoon this morning."

Wes lifted a hand to his face, knowing instantly what Travis meant. "My mascara ran," he stated rather than asked.

"Just a little," Travis laughed.

"You're an ass," Wes replied, only a little serious. "You hungry?"

"Always, sweetheart."

The leer on Travis' face told him he wasn't meaning food. "Let me clarify, are you ready for breakfast? It's a given that you're always horny."

Travis laughed, loud and bright in the early morning. "Yeah, I could eat, but we'd both better clean up a bit first."

"Good idea," he mocked. "You can get in first if you'd like."

"No way," Travis said, taking hold of Wes' arm. "We're going in together."

How did he know that was coming?

xx

By the time they managed to get out of the hotel, it was closer to lunch than it was to breakfast and they were both starving. As always, Travis put away an unusually large amount of food, even for a man of his voracious appetites. Whether out of respect for Wes' concerns for his health or just the overall fear of being nagged over everything he put into his mouth, Marks had even managed to order a somewhat healthy lunch. Needless to say, Wes was impressed.

"So, blondie, we have a whole day with nothing to do until we leave in the morning. Any suggestions?" Travis poked at a roasted potato with his fork.

Shrugging, Wes chewed a mouthful of chicken. "I don't know, Vegas never was my thing. Too much glitz and not nearly as much glamor as they'd like you to believe."

"I heard that," Travis agreed. "So no shows? Nothing you want to see? I hear there's a chocolate factory nearby."

"Always with the food," Wes grinned. "But no, I think I'm getting used to just spending time with you." He was silent for a moment and then added, "Outside of work that is. I've been used to being attached to your hip at work for a very long time."

It was an admission of sorts, but not one he thought Travis would pick up on. They were partners, after all, and they spent an inordinate amount of time together on the job. He wasn't going to worry about it though, because they had made progress, and progress wasn't something to be taken lightly.

"I'm kinda getting used to being around you, too, blondie," Travis said quietly. "And I think I actually might be enjoying myself, too."

And there was something he hadn't expected to hear. Not now, probably not ever. "I can't tell you how happy that makes me, Travis."

He got a smile in return. "You make me happy," he said, reaching out and squeezing Wes' hand. "You up for dessert?"

Just like that, the moment was gone and they were back to being Detectives Mitchell and Marks, no longer lovers sharing a confession. Wes was okay with that. Travis had really stepped up during this little trip and he was proud of the boy.

"Hello, Wes," he heard Travis saying.

He looked up, blinked and realized Travis had been talking to him for a while. "Sorry, what was that?"

"I just asked you if you wanted to get married and you completely ignored me. What a jerk." Travis playfully crossed his arms across his chest, leaning into the booth seat heavily.

"You did not," Wes breathed. "Liar."

"I am not a liar," he defended. "I said, 'Hey, Wes. You know, we're in Vegas, why don't we get married by Elvis or something' and you ignored me."

Wes swallowed his heart back into his chest. "Please tell me you're joking."

"I'm not, although it'd be for show only." He frowned and reached for Wes' hand again. "That kind of thing isn't quite legal here yet."

"It is in California," Wes reminded him.

"Yeah, but it isn't as fun getting married in Los Angles, is it?" He fiddled with the face of Wes' watch until he go his hand swatted.

"No, no Elvis impersonators to marry you in LA," he agreed. "How about we go back upstairs and figure out the afternoon there?"

Travis nodded, reaching for his wallet. "I think that's a good idea. Matter of fact, an idea's coming to me right now."

"Yeah, I can see that," Wes laughed, noticing the growing bulge in his partner's pants. "Just one question though."

"Fire away," Travis said, handing his debit card and the bill to the waitress.

"Does all of this mean we're… _together_… now?"

"That depends on you," he said, surprising Wes.

"What does that mean?" A million horrible, awful thoughts flooded his mind, endless possibilities that put all the blame squarely on his shoulders.

"All I mean is that if that's what you want, then that's what I'll give you." He paused while the waitress returned his card and wished them a good day. "You know that if you wait on me to make that decision, it won't ever get made."

Wes gave him points for honesty although he didn't like that he had to be the one to tie him down. "How about we continue doing what we've been doing only we throw a few actual dates into the mix?"

"I can do that," Travis said, smiling.

"Although, I'm not sure I'm brave enough to go out like we did last night. Not in Los Angeles."

Travis nodded his understanding. "You know, it's a simple fix. We could drive a bit and spend the weekend somewhere."

He made a good point, but he was still a bit wary. "Okay, but not yet."

"No rush. We can discuss that on our next date, right?"

"Right," Wes agreed. "You ready to go back to the room?"

"I'm already there, baby." Travis stood and held a hand out.

Unsure, Wes looked around before taking it into his own. Suddenly realizing he didn't give a damn about the stares, he let Travis help him to his feet, planting a kiss on his cheek for the effort. Slipping an arm around his arm around his almost-boyfriend's waist, he leaned into his side. "I wish we didn't have to go home."

"Me either, but we do." He looped his arm around Wes' middle, pulling them even closer. "All the rest we can figure out later."

Travis was right. They had only one day left of their mini-vacation and they might as well enjoy it. Even if they never managed to leave the hotel room. Or hell, the bedroom for that matter. Wasn't that what room service was for anyway?

He intended to find out. As soon as possible.


End file.
